Hope Of Morning
by Meshi-kun
Summary: 'When the hope of morning makes me worth the fight...I will not be giving in tonight.' Slight AU. OC centeric. A birthday gift-song-one-shot fic for the most awesome person on this planet-DarkHeart Yami! Happy birthday Darky! Have an awesome day! Read and review!


**_A/n:_** ** _This is a gift fic for an awesome friend of mine! DarkHeart Yami! Happy Birthday DarkHeart Yami, You rock dude! The song featured in this fic is Hope of morning by Icon For Hire. I really recommend listening to the song while reading. Enjoy! Yeah, I don't own anything that is even remotely awesome. Including the OC and the song_**

 ** _Hope Of Morning_**

 _This was the end._

The reeking disembodied voice had long plagued his impressionable mind, making brittle memories etch themselves into his soul; gradually and agonizingly. The pain was too much to express; too much to bear. It rained upon him like blood; his blood.

The orange sky was clouded with soot, blurring all what vision he had left. The clanks of battle hurtled in the air like a loud foghorn; like a reminder of his coward. It resonated in his mind, making bile rise up to his throat and the scent of blood congest his sinews. His hands trembled, his heart paced.

 _He had left his allies alone._

 _Alone to die._

He could not count the number of times when he had choked his mind with this realization, with this macabre thought. His skinny arms had wrapped around his grazed knees, succumbing to the lightest wisp of warmth. He could hear the hums, the hums that had overwhelmed his being like a death song of the devil. Like the song of his death playing on the lyre with a melancholy strain. His purple eyes were squinted, in fear or denial, he could not tell. His shaky body rocked back in forth, a war of his own waging inside his head...

 _With the devil inside him_

His back ached, the sharp stones of the cave walls pierced into his skin, drawing out the thick crimson liquid. His petrified orbs were staring at the stream of blood that had made its way through the rocky terrain and towards the puddle. With grating graduality.

 _My mind's a kaleidoscope; it thinks too fast  
Blurs all the colors 'til I can't see past._

He could see the devils face reflect in his blood, laughing at him with his vicious fangs shining in the moonlight. The fear sheered upon his body, like vines that skulk up on old houses and smother them to their death. The pain was like the; the fear was like that, lurking up his body with a noxious sensuality. He wanted to shield his eyes, wanted to cower in fear…

 _In the fear of himself._

 _'You are worthless…DarkHeart…you handed your friends to the devil…' his_ voice penetrated DarkHeart's mind, seeping in through the holes of self-harm and disgust. His nails dug into his flesh as his strident voice pierced his consciousness.

He could feel his thoughts slumping against the walls of his head, amongst his demons that had started to take over him; crawling up his mind and entangling themselves with his soul. A raw pain had gripped him, making him roll over to his stomach.

 _The last mistake, the choice I made  
Staring in the mirror with myself to blame  
Sometimes I'm afraid of the thoughts inside  
Nowhere to hide inside my mind_

 _His_ rough chuckled grazed DarkHeart's mind, and his vile smile flashed in his head, _'You are coward…you let them die…let them rot in their own blood…decaying to nothingness…' his_ raucous voice resonated in his head, making an excrutiatating scale to his head. His gaunter cheeks trembled as tongues of fire whipped his lungs, making him gasp for a slight inhale of air. The cold winds stabbed his palms turning them to a numb shade of blue, blood rushed to his knuckles as his fingers curled around his rusted sword.

But the pain was immense. It prickled his palms leading the sword to drop down to the ground with a demeaning clank. The hilt of the sword was staring at him with an unbecoming insolence.

 _"You failed"_

He could hear it say. He did not know; he did not know whether it was all a fatal illusion by his mind or the toxic reality.

 _I'm scared that you'll compare and I'll look a lifetime past repair  
I second guess myself to death, I re-solicit every step  
What if my words are meaningless? What if my heart's misleading this?  
I try to capture every moment as it comes to me  
Bottle up the memories and let them keep me company_

 _'Gingka, Tsubasa, Ryuuga…everybody! They will die...'_

DarkHeart's hands rushed to his head, grasping his hair and tugging at them to make those voices stop. However, somewhere inside he knew…they would not stop…they will take over him and deliver him to the demon…

 _To Yami._

 _His death._

 _'...Just like you…Just like you…'he_ laughed.

"NO!" DarkHeart croaked, gulping down the thick lump that had formed in his throat.

 _When the hope of morning starts to fade in me  
I don't dare let darkness have its way with me  
And the hope of morning makes me worth the fight  
I will not be giving in tonight_

 _He_ grunted in surprise, _'you cannot fight me…you are too weak…' he_ spat in his mocking honeyed voice. _His_ silken arms wrapped around DarkHeart's subconscious, squeezing him; like a depraved and vicious snake baring its yellowed and blood stained fangs at its prey.

"NO!" DarkHeart protested his voice ringed in his head like resonating bells of caution, making his throat ache dully.

 _His_ lips curved up in a mortifying smile, _his_ crazed chuckle booming in his head, _'you will lose…'_ his hiss penetrated his courage, crumbling it to the ground.

 _But DarkHeart could not give up this easy._

"NO! I WON'T LOSE!" His strangulated voice echoed in the empty cavern, his frozen hands pushed his weak body up and his feet paced out of the cave, into the blinding white light.

 _'You can't outrun me'_

Tears slipped down his cheeks as his feet pushed against the snow laden and ash sprinkled grounds, the trees smoldered in the agony of war that had prevailed, the snow melted and ran to the ravaging fires of the conflict. The hostile wind fanned the mighty flames of hate in the hearts of those who fought.

 _When I'm old and grey, or thirty, or whatever happens first,  
I'll need you to reassure me I didn't waste a verse_

His feet ached from the pain but he ran, through the silent frozen woods. The snow crippled under his feet as he ran, veiling the sounds in his head. His breath had condensed, making the slimy scarf slip down his shoulders, exposing the demon's cause.

 _The pendant._

 _'I am you…you can outrun me…but how will you outrun yourself? Outrun your betrayal?'_

 _Or worse, what if my life's work is reduced to just myself  
Like never let you get a word in, while I dissect my mental health  
Or lack thereof, whatever, there's too many things to track  
I really can't remember if I'm insane or insomniac_

He kept running, but he knew could not run forever. _His_ voice looped in his head, it stung. The pain. DarkHeart wanted to scream, to let out what he had suppressed inside of him all these years. This affection had long consumed him and he knew he was falling. He knew he was failing.

 _'You left your friends to die…you buried their souls alive…'_

 _Nowadays, all the kids want crazy, wanna diagnose themselves  
trade up made up epidemics, pass around prescription pills  
But my disorder can't be cured by a bottle, blade, or dose  
Self-disgust and selfishness tend to hold me awfully close_

 _Yami was right. He had ran…_

 _He had left his friends on the battlefield and had ran, ran to save his own life._

However, he did not know what he was more afraid of… leaving his friends to die or of killing them on his own.

 _But I don't wanna let you see that, I don't want my friends to know  
Self-disgust and selfishness take me everywhere I go_

"I did not leave them to die!" DarkHeart breathed, his raspy voice scratched at his throat, with its claws of failure, "You did!"

 _When the hope of morning starts to fade in me,  
I don't dare let darkness have its way with me  
And the hope of morning makes me worth the fight  
I will not be giving in tonight_

"You are the reason why I ran! If not the war…You would kill them! You made me run away!" DarkHeart objected, his purple eyes trailed at the light cantaloupe that peeked up from the horizon, dawn was here. He could feel the warmth of victory swaying in the air. His dawn was here.

 _Or so he thought…_

 _His_ laughter yet again enclosed his being in the gloom of defeat, _'What if I did…? You would still deal the pain...'_ his voice embossed in his hosts' brain. He wanted those voices to stop, those murmurs to quiet down but they did not. Instead the clawed on his valor, making him collapse.

Darkheart stopped, his knees crumbled to the ground in pain. He could not run anymore. He could not.

 _He was giving up._

 _After all, he was destined to lose…_

 _Try as I might to keep it together  
Why is recovery taking forever?_

 _'You will die…'_

 _Fool the whole world, just until I get better  
I'm terrified I'll be faking forever (Faking forever)_

 _'You were always supposed to die, DarkHeart…you will lose…'_

 _On and on, I wonder what went wrong inside my head  
I don't have to have the answers, but tonight I wish I did  
all the pain I can't explain away won't fade  
all the secrets silenced by the shame  
Don't make me say it [x7]_

 _His_ voice rang inside his head. Repeatedly. Like a record that would not stop.

DarkHeart's frostbitten fingers curled around the pendant.

The voice still stabbed his soul, trying to make him crumble, trying to make him surrender…trying to make him lose…

 _'You will lose.'_

 _When the hope of morning starts to fade in me  
I don't dare let darkness have its way with me_

"Not today." He clenched the pendant harder.

 _'No...You won't'_ he could hear the desperateness in his adversary's voice, a tint of fear. He liked it.

 _'…you will die without it.'_

"I will die with it too. What is the difference…" His wavering voice growled, a new power welled up inside his heart. A new courage. A new defiance.

 _'You know I will kill you without this…'_

"I know." He tugged at his pendant, breaking it and throwing the curse to the ground, without a glance back, he ran. Towards his friends.

 _And the hope of morning makes me worth the fight  
I will not be giving in tonight_

Because this was the end of the darkest hour…

 _This maybe his end._

…this was the beginning of the morning…the morning of hope.

 _But it was not his defeat._

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** ** _and once again, a very happy birthday to DarkHeart Yami! Have an awesome birthday! And yeah, readers don't forget to review!_**


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